


Butterflies and Hurricanes

by TowardTheStars



Series: October [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, British Politics, Cheating, Drama, Established Relationship, God Complex, Infedility, Inspired by Fanfiction, Jealousy, Language, M/M, POV First Person, Political AU, Politics, Romance, Sirius Black POV, Sirius Black is Prime Minister, Smut, Snirius Discord's StarPrince Kinktober 2020, political scandals, possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27113654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TowardTheStars/pseuds/TowardTheStars
Summary: Severus Snape thinks Sirius Black has a god complex.Who could blame him, with Sirius being the beloved, adored, brilliant, transformative (and many more other wonderful attributes) Prime Minister that he is?
Relationships: Lily Evans Potter & Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape, Sirius Black & Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black & Remus Lupin, Sirius Black & Tom Riddle, Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Series: October [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954954
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43
Collections: StarPrince Kinktober 2020





	Butterflies and Hurricanes

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Hinterland Doctrine: Those Who Stand For Nothing Fall For Anything](https://archiveofourown.org/works/786716) by [Halfpromise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halfpromise/pseuds/Halfpromise). 



> Hello! This was written for Day 19 of the Snirius's Kinktober challenge: Jealousy/Posseivness. 
> 
> This is more or less a shameless rip off of my favorite fics of all time - The Hinterland Doctrine by Halfpromise. Regardless if you're in the Death Note fandom or not, it can be read alone, and - and I can't stress this enough - it is one of the most impressive works of literature I've ever read. Highly recommend, especially if you're looking for something long. Of course all credit to Halfpromise for creating such a remarkable piece of art. 
> 
> The title is from Butterflies and Hurricanes by Muse.

He gets off on it, I know he does. I know he does because he always has the most infuriating smirk on his face, and he likes to coil his arm around Malfoy’s waist like he’s about to take him to the back of some room and molest him.

It’s alright, though. It’s simply a game and one that he will lose. I have never lost in my life and have no intention to start now.

I wrench myself from these aggravating thoughts as I pretend to flip through some files that I couldn’t give less a fuck about. No one understands how difficult it is to be Prime Minister, but I suffer through it selflessly for I must.

“Pettigrew,” I snap because I’m frustrated, and Pettigrew’s an absolute idiot who snorts cocaine like a vacuum inhales dust. He scurries to my side, his rat feature all twitchy and absolutely appalling. He's starting to bald, which is slightly depressing because he still tries his best to style it. It’s pitiful when men like him won’t accept reality.

“Yes, Prime Minister,” he snivels, and I’m very tempted to call McGonagall and demand that she re-evaluates my staff. Pettigrew makes me look bad; he’s involved in one scandal or another and has an annoying mistress that thinks she actually deserves something from their contemptible relationship. The tabloids have picked it up, and he knows his time is running short.

“Have you run the numbers on the teacher pay?” I ask even though I could care less about teachers or paying them. However, it was part of my platform: all that jazz about improving education and giving poor kids computers and whatever it takes to get people to vote for me.

Pettigrew swallows hard, and while I usually take great pleasure out of making people quake before me, it’s irritating. “Potter should have them,” he replies, and I give him one long stare that should make it abundantly clear that he needs to start looking for another job.

I let him stew in his failure when the door opens. There’s only one person in the world who opens the door without knocking, and he’s the most insufferable man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet. A horrendous waste of space, but also my PR head even though he’s got that embarrassing boy toy with his terribly died platinum blonde hair. I have great issue with men who think they can pull off hairstyles when they so clearly can’t.

His name is Severus Snape, and I hate his guts, but he’s also damn good at his job. And damn good in bed, but that’s beside the point now.

“What?” I greet with an edge of hostility that I'd know he’d appreciate. I take him in for a moment; he’s wearing a Burberry alligator leather trench coat. It looks appalling on him, even if he looks good in everything.

Severus stretches lazily, and he plasters a greasy smile on his face. “You’re out, Pettigrew. Go home and slit your wrists.”

Pettigrew whips his gaze between the two of us, panic evident in his weasely little eyes. I’m staring at Severus with marked interest. I let him have far too much leeway to begin with in my administration, but he’s some asshole alpha dog lawyer and things were different when I used to fuck him. I mean, I still do. But not with a fucking Lucius Malfoy speaking about weddings at the dinner parties he has the nerve to invite me to.

“Huh?” Peter squeaks, and Severus rolls his eyes as he crosses the room. He’s got these long, spider legs, but the tightest ass I’ve ever seen. He takes off the trench coat and throws it on the chair in front of my desk. He’s wearing a Brioni pinstripe wool suit in dark blue, and it should not work on him, but it does. I admire it with a removed sense of appreciation. Despite a respectable taste in suits, he’s got shitty taste in men. Well, besides me, of course.

Severus shrugs as if he doesn’t give enough of a shit for Pettigrew’s fall from grace. “Evans got dirt on you, you sad little man. Receiving bribes from white supremacist groups will not hold up well in Sirius Black’s very respectable and esteemed administration.” He shoots me a grin, and I want to punch his face.

“I didn’t know about this,” I respond, even though I did and Severus did too. Severus’s still got that shit-eating smile because he’s a goddamned shark when he senses blood in the water. Pettigrew’s just chum at this point. I’m the cage diver watching in apt fascination.

“But-no, I-,” Pettigrew tries to protest, but it’s futile and embarrassing. I hold up a hand to get him to stop and he does. He’s gone very red, which has done little to complement his features. It’s a mystery how he managed a mistress in the first place; I can’t imagine how anyone can bear to touch him. “But-,” he shifts gears, “tell your girlfriend not to publish it. Can’t you tell her-?”

Severus laughs at that. “Evan’s not letting that one go. And unfortunately for you, I think you’re a piece of shit on a stick and would do all the better falling into a ditch and dying off and leaving us in peace. Also, Pettigrew, you’re balding. Fucking accept it.”

Pettigrew’s going white now, and I’m watching with faint interest as he grovels beneath Severus. I am, however, watching with much closer interest at how that Brioni suit hugs Severus’s ass. It’s very appealing. He must have known that when he bought it.

“You should leave, Pettigrew. Thank you for your role in my administration,” I add because I am the Prime Minister after all. It’s up to me to retain the dignity of this position. After the last one, I’ve had to do much to repair the position’s image. I’ve been very successful. Times magazine rated me person of the year last year. Severus had helped with that one, calling all the journalists he knows. It was nearly enough for me to fall in love with him. I didn’t though. I would never do something so humiliating.

Pettigrew grabs his briefcase and shuffles out the room. Severus watches him go, eyes gleaning. He turns back to me: “Evans found a picture of him in blackface too. God, I can’t wait to see that everywhere.”

I don’t humor him with a response because I’m far above such depravity. Instead, I ask him about what matters: why the fuck he’s here and if he’s ended his little experiment with Malfoy yet.

Severus’s eyebrow arches almost comically. It’s a very annoying habit of his but effective. I know he’s practiced it in the mirror. I saw him do it once, even though he denies it. “Why would I not be here, Sirius? I head your PR, and one of your trusted advisors turned out to be a white supremacist.”

I sigh. It’s three o’clock on a Friday, and it’s the last thing I want to deal with. I couldn’t bear it if Pettigrew’s political scandal colored my weekend. “What the fuck is Evans going to do about it?” Evan is Severus’s journalist girlfriend, even though he’s a very gay man. Sometimes it seems like it’s only her goodwill towards him that stops her from trying to take down my administration.

Severus crosses his legs and leans back. “Hmm, she’ll keep it just to Pettigrew. You know nothing, right?” he says with an aggravating grin. “Anyone else you want to rid of while we’re at it?”

“Riddle,” I grumble, and he laughs. Riddle is my political opponent, and while I’m the great liberal light leading this godforsaken country forward, he’s doing his best to implement a fascist neo-Nazi regime. It’s very appealing to the voters, but, of course, one can never let the voters get what they want.

Severus shakes his head. Of course, I know that if Severus wasn’t so full of himself, his creepy ass would have joined some death cult for the fun of it. He also likes Riddle, which I can’t stand. It doesn’t help that Riddle is good. Very good.

“Worried, Sirius?” he asks in that low, silky voice of his. He tilts forward, and I pretend to look at some papers. The election’s upcoming, and I have to make sure my party wins. Pettigrew’s scandal won’t help, but it removes the rot.

“No,” I reply curtly. He’s still leaning forward and watching me closely. “And to answer your other question,” he begins, because he knows exactly what to say and how to say it to make me feel hot underneath my silk shirt. “No, I haven’t. I still have Lucius sucking my cock every morning. Does that make you jealous, Sirius?”

I play out the perfect scene in my head. Severus. Me. My fist breaking his nose into a million pieces.

“No,” I reply, even though it does. Of course it does. He knows it, and I hate him for it. “I think you forget I’m also married.”

He grins, and it’s an evil look. “Oh, yes the beautiful First Lady. I always forget. How is she anyway?”

“Fine,” I reply emotionlessly. She’s fine, except I think she’s having an affair with one of my aids. I need to fire him. I don’t care that she’s sleeping with someone else, but I do care that it undermines my manhood. She’s usually subtle about these things, but at the moment, it’s not worth the risk to my campaign.

“I heard she’s grown fond of…what’s his name? Longbottom? His bottom at least, as far as I’ve heard.”

I grip my pen between my fingers and press hard into the paper as I sign it. I don’t respond to him, but I can feel him watching me. He has the most penetrative gaze of anyone I’ve ever met, with the possible exception of Albus Dumbledore. It feels like he’s staring into my soul. I’ve watched nearly everyone crack under it, but I don’t give him the pleasure.

“And what about you?” he asks, elbows resting on his thighs as he tries to sound seductive. It wouldn’t work, except he has that goddamned voice that make phone sex workers throw up their arms and quit their jobs. Besides that, he has next to no attractive qualities, if one is willing to forget his dick. I’ve tried to, but it really wasn’t worth the effort.

“What about me?” I parrot even though we both find repetition droll. My other advisor, Lupin, has a very nasty habit of repeating my last few words, almost like its gospel and he’s my disciple. It’s slightly endearing which is why I keep him around, but he has to be careful not to grow too deifying. Severus already thinks I have a god complex.

“Anyone special spicing up your life? Any cute little interns you’re trying to get impeached over?” He asks this as a joke because he’s not serious and he already knows the answer. I think I should possibly mention that I fucked his new aide, Rosier or something like that, because I could and I knew it would piss him off if he ever found out. He likes to pretend his immediate circle is off-limits to me, that he’s shielded them from my depravity, but it’s bullshit.

“Besides your lovely mother?” I say even though it’s childish. “I never knew she could give such good head. I almost see where you got it from.” Like I know he will, he laughs. He finds insults like that amusing because he has an objectionable sense of humor. Unfortunately, I like the sound of his laugh, so I often have to stoop to his level. Besides, if I mention Rosier, he might get prissy and then the whole conversation will derail. I don’t particularly want that to happen since I know he’s here because he wants to fuck me because his boy toy preforms pathetically in bed. He hasn’t told me that, but I know it. No one who runs an art gallery and prefers white wine as their drink of choice has any idea of how to make a man like Severus Snape lose control.

I lean back and meet his stare. I wonder how desperate he is. He must be because otherwise, he wouldn’t have shown up to my office like this. Even if he derived some pleasure from delivering the bad news to Pettigrew, it’s not enough of a reason for him to show up here on a Friday afternoon. His intentions are painfully obvious, and I almost pity the man, but he dug his own grave. Now, I simply have to decide if I want to entertain his infidelity and reward his desperation.

“You should get someone,” Severus gets out, his gaze never leaving my face. He’s staring at me with enough intensity to wilt the house plan McGonagall insists I keep. I stare back evenly. “It’s a waste. You’re a man who needs to be fucked.”

I wonder sometimes if Severus’s indiscretion will extend to him betraying me to Riddle. When he says lines like that with that glint in his eyes, I think it will. But at the same time, I know he wouldn’t want to ruin me so easily. He has the misbelief that he created me, scooping me out of the Department of Justice and making me into someone beside some nepotistic underachiever doomed to shuffle between departments on Daddy’s good graces. It’s a mistake on his part; I was always destined for greatness, regardless of Severus’s interest in me or not.

He likes to challenge me, however. He likes his games. Games that I always win, but that’s beside the point.

“Is that so?” I say, rubbing my jaw. I’ve been considering growing a beard for a while now. The polls say it would perform well, making me look accomplished, respectable, reassuring, and more mature. I know it would make Severus go nuts. I’m very tempted.

Severus licks his lips, the obvious idiot. “Yeah,” he says, “Yeah it is.”

“Is that person you?” I ask because I know his answer. It will always, until we both die, be a yes. Yes, yes, yes. I hate his guts but I will never be able to stop wanting to fuck him. He can have as many obnoxious little boyfriends as he wants, but he will always come back to me and I will let him. Water is wet, the world is round, and we can’t keep our hands off each other.

“It could be,” he states, leaning forward farther. I pretend to ponder the proposition and play up my hesitation.

“Malfoy not enough?” I drawl, considering the man before me. The scowl is all I need to see to know that it will not last. It never will. Malfoy will be out of the picture soon enough, and then, like before, it will be me and him. As it should be.

“He’s not you,” he says simply enough. I can’t disagree. No one’s like me.

I set the pen down and lean back in my chair. I tilt my head. “Take your pants off,” I order because there should be no confusion over who is in control here. Severus does so with a quickness that almost makes me pity Lucius. As a public servant, it’s almost my responsibility to inform him of his failure and encourage solutions. I take care of my citizens. Of course, he’s some ponce from France, so I couldn’t give less of a shit for him.

He stands pantless, and I admire him as I always do. Severus is one of those men who think the impressive size of their cock elevates them to alpha status all us lesser men can strive for but never reach. It acts a basis for half his arrogance and three-quarters of his aggression. I have no respect for men who base their personality on their genitalia, but it doesn’t stop me from admiring it still.

“Bend over the desk,” I order lazily, and he glares at me as he complies. We’re both tops, so it’s always a competition who will fuck the other. In the beginning, he mostly fucked me because I was young and unsure. Now, though, I fuck him. It’s only fair and right.

I stand as he bends over and run a hand through his hair, scraping harder than necessary. His ass sticks out, and I move to stand behind it. I unzip my pants and pull out my own cock. I reach for the lube I keep in my desk drawer and slick it on my hands and cock. I position myself and push in with one slow, smooth move. He gasps, and his back tenses.

I reach down and grab at his neck, pressing it down onto my desk. I curve my fingers into the base of his skull and dig my nails into his scalp. It should hurt, but Severus’s a masochistic asshole and gets off on this type of stuff. He proves my point by moaning.

I don’t move just yet; Severus has forgotten who he belongs too, running off with French poofs. I imagine Lucius Malfoy’s aristocratic face and feel a sour surge of jealousy and anger. The idea that that faggot thinks he has the right to lay a single finger on Severus is offensive to all involved. I’m the only one who can actually fuck him, and he knows it.

“Lucius doesn’t do this, does he? Does he fuck you, Severus? Does he make you come without touching your dick?” My words hopefully grate on him with their veracity. Even if they do, he still moans.

“Fuck, Sirius,” he says as the eloquent man he is. “Fuck me, god.”

I shift slightly as if considering it but stop. It’s not enough yet. I need him sobbing for me. “What? Why don’t you go running back to him? Aren’t you getting married? Do you have a date set? I would love to come, you know.”

“Fuck you,” Severus snarls, and I laugh, the sound deep and rich.

“Or is it me you want? Me you always want?”

He doesn’t respond, but the answer will always be yes.

“You’re mine,” I growl. “You’re mine, Severus.”

“Fuck, I am,” he groans, and that’s better. “I’m-I’m yours, Sirius. Until I die.”

Good, I think. I would accept no less. “Mine,” I growl out again, and he tries to jerk back onto me, but I hold his hips firm in one hand. I hope he knows what’s coming for him.

“Yes,” he pleads. “Yeah, fuck. I’m yours, Sirius. Now, god, just _fuck me_.”

“Say it,” I demand.

“Yours, yours, yours,” he repeats mindlessly, and as he does, I start to thrust, shifting my hips forward and back so I’m fucking him, and his moans punctuate the cries of yours. I’m going fast, but then I slow myself and angle myself _just so._

That’s the problem with Severus and me. I know how every nerve synapses in his body, and he knows the same for mine. It means I can fuck him into incomprehension. It means he can do the same to me. It’s something Lucius Malfoy will never understand or attain.

I know how to hit that spot inside him, but I also know how to angle myself so my cock brushes against it _just so_. It’s not enough for him to come, but it’s enough to place him on the edge of incoherence. He’ll start to babble and then he’ll forget how to speak anything but my name, and then I’ll only need to hit his prostate once and he’ll come all over his thighs, without me even needing to touch him once. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed, and when I finally figured out how to do that to him, it was game over. I had won, and Severus would beg for my cock like a man dying of thirst.

Of course, he also knows that if he runs his lips over me and praises me in that velvety voice of his, I’ll come the second his mouth touches my cock. I am only human, after all.

I’ve started the pace, and he knows what’s happening now. He’s still on the blabbering phase: yours, yours, yours, fuck, Sirius – and I’m matching it with chants of mine. Mine, mine, mine. Fuck you, Lucius Malfoy.

He tries to shift his hips, but I don’t let him, and he moves onto keening out my name. I’ve still got my hand pinning his head and neck against my desk, and like this, I am powerful. I fuck him harder and harder, and now he’s just sobbing – such a great man reduced to nothing. That’s why I couldn’t get enough of him at first. There’s no power like the one where your touch reduces a cold, calculating man into a moaning mess. Even now, it shoots from my groin to my head and then back to my groin. I’m moaning now too – I’ll have to come, but not before -.

I shift my hips and hit him exactly _there_ , and then he’s coming over his thighs, sobbing out my name like a prayer for salvation. I fuck him through it, but the sudden tightening pushes me over the precipice, and I come in him, groaning out in the process.

I recollect myself; I’ve broken a sweat and might have ruined my Zegna Trofeo silk shirt. One’s not supposed to expose a shirt like this to any moisture, and it would be a shame to ruin it. To be fair, it would also be a considerable shame if Severus got any of his come on his Brioni trousers. Suits like that don’t come cheaply.

Severus is panting beneath me, and I slowly relinquish my grip on his neck. I’m hoping I’ll leave a bruise and then he and Lucius will have to fight over it. God, wouldn’t that be beautiful. I pull myself out of him and straighten myself up. I watch him and feel the urge to smile. What a wonderful thing it was for Pettigrew to be a white supremacist.

He shifts upwards after a few more moments and sits on the edge of my desk. His pants are still around his ankles, but like any man with a big dick, he thinks he’s God’s gift to me. It’s annoying but attractive. He stretches his legs so that they’re on either side of me. I step forward between them, so his face is next to my chest and he’s staring up at me. He’s got that self-satisfied smirk that I simultaneously hate and adore.

He wraps his hands around my waist and presses his face into my chest. He begins to lick and kiss at the line of my shirt, mouth moving around the buttons. His tongue darts around to lick between the fabric and against my chest. I want to push him away in annoyance for possibly ruining my shirt, but I don’t want to. Not really.

He pulls away and looks up at me, grinning. “A Zegna, huh?” he says, and it’s stupid how he can say and know things like that and how it makes me feel like I have to be in love. Otherwise, I have no idea how to describe that parasitic feeling inside me.

“Break up with Malfoy,” I demand, ignoring his comment. He kisses my stomach through my shirt, still grinning as if amused by some great cosmic joke.

“I’m yours, Sirius,” he says, and it’s not what I want, but I suppose it’s close enough.

“Mine,” I say, and when I kiss him again, I think I really must mean it. “Now break up with Malfoy.”

He laughs and pushes me away so he can stand. “Jealous, Sirius?” he taunts, and I’m back to once again hating his guts.

“Fuck you,” I state. He laughs again, and with a self-assured casualness, he pulls up his pants and grabs his trench coat.

“I think you just did,” he winks, and with one more kiss, he leaves. I hate him, but I also love him, and I wish he would just die so I could be rid of his presence and the confusion it causes me. It’s much easier without him.

But then again, I have never wanted easy. I have never wanted, since the day I’ve met him, to live without him. It’s all very sad and pathetic, but despite his belief that I entertain a God complex, I am only human at the end of the day.

Now if only he would end things with Malfoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! I've never written first person before, and while it's a bit strange, I hope Sirius's pureblood arrogance came off painfully well. I always love those unchecked god complexes. 
> 
> Now please go check out The Hinterland Doctrine. Please. Do it for yourself.


End file.
